Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any thing really but the plot. All
else belongs to J.K Rowling
Chapter One
The Devastating Fall
"What in Merlin's name happened Albus?"
It was a cold and gloomy, late Saturday afternoon, in November and Albus Dumbledore, professors Snape and McGonagall, along with Madam Pomfrey were gathered together in the hospital wing of Hogwarts School of witch craft and wizardry. The hospital wing was cold and starch white that would have reminded any muggle born witch, or wizard, of a laboratory. Each bed had neatly pressed linen sheets, and the grey light was dimmed by the small, high, windows. The Professors were huddled on one of the beds, except for professor Snape, who had a detached expression on his face, and madam Pomfrey who was fiddling, nervously, with the glass potions bottles, which were balanced on the top of a bed side table. The cause of their current discussion was lying on the bed in front of them. Harry potter, the boy who lived, was lying, all bandaged up and still unconscious, in the hospital wing, completely oblivious to all his visitors.
"I do not know the full details yet poppy," the man called Albus said, to Madam Pomfrey as he turned to face him, her eyes silently enquiring for more information, "and no one will know, I think, until they talk to Draco Malfoy as he is the only one who might be able to tell us all what actually happened."
Dumbledore's age had become more pronounced over the past few weeks, which Harry had determined was because of stress. The headmaster was always very busy, and now he had returned to Hogwarts he spent most of the time in his office, only appearing for dinner each night, in the Great Hall.
"Severus would you kindly go and find Draco for us, please? When you do find him, would you bring him up to my office?" Severus Snape turned and strode out of the hospital wing, his black robes billowing behind him. All that were left solemnly looked down upon the injured boy as the heavy, oak doors swung closed.
"He should wake in a few days time, but he must not leave for quite a while longer than that I think. After all he did sustain quite a serious injury." stated Madam Pomfrey, the undercurrents of concern and anger, obvious in her voice.
"Very well, but I do want to speak to him as soon as he is fully awake Poppy." Albus Dumbledore replied as he too, turned and quietly walked out of the hospital wing.
*
It had been two hours since the Quidditch match but Ron was still continuing to storm around the Gryffindor common room, snapping at everyone, but Hermione. He was creating such a tense and strained atmosphere, that many people had forced them selves to leave the comforting warmth of the common room, instead opting for the colder rooms of Hogwarts, seeking sanctuary. The common room was normally a warm and comforting place, which all the residents of Gryffindor Tower greatly appreciated in the winter months. Hermione had given up her, rather futile, efforts to calm Ron, long ago and so sat now, with a large a dusty volume in hand, in one of the squashy armchairs by the fire, which was by now reduced to a few dieing embers. She turned the page, but wasn't really concentrating on the text at all; she was too worried about Harry. Madam Pomfrey hadn't let the two of them, nor the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, enter the hospital wing, despite their arguments and protests, and when Ron had started shouting at her, Madam Pomfrey had sent them all back to their common room.
"I am going to kill that evil, slimy, little.git!" stated Ron, the suppressed anger making his voice shake. "I can't believe he did that. Did you see him Hermione? Malfoy tried to push Harry off his broom when Harry was trying to avoid a collision with that Bludger!
Which he probably made attack Harry!" Ron sneered when he said Malfoy's name, voice full of venom, but the rest of the sentence was painfully strained, "I.Am .going.to.rip.out.his.insides.and.stuff.them.down.his."
"RON! Calm down." Said Hermione once again trying to make him stop his relentless pacing of the floor, "That's not what it looked like to me any way. I saw Malfoy try and catch Harry when he was falling. Didn't you see him dive after Harry-?" " 'Mione does that really sound like something Malfoy would do? He hates Harry! I am telling you that some how Malfoy was responsible for Harry being injured." Ron Paused for breath and then bust out with "Why wont they let us go and see him?!" Hermione however didn't answer, being, once again, deep in thought.
* Once the Headmaster Reached his office, he proceeded to makes his way, slowly, towards his desk. The Headmaster's office was a quite and peaceful room which Dumbledore found a very comforting relief from most places in the wizarding world, which were normally full of hurrying people. The headmaster paused to stroke the soft downy feathers on his phoenix, Fawkes. The fluffy little bird, tilted its head back in satisfaction and began to cheep, or rather it tried to sing, rather unsuccessfully. Albus left Fawkes and moved around the dim room. Upon reaching his desk, he seated him self in his hair, and took out parchment and quill. He dipped the quill in the black ink, deep in thought. The scratching of the quill was all that could be heard for the next ten minutes, as Dumbledore wrote a letter to Molly Weasley, telling him not to worry, as he knew that Hermione and Ron would be sure to write to her, to inform her about Harry's accident.
Dear Molly, I am writing to inform you that Harry will be ok, and should wake within the next few days. I know that Hermione and Ron will have written to you by now, but I must stress the importance that you stay at your current location. Do not come out to Hogwarts. I know that so far this year Voldemort hasn't been up to much but we can't let our guard down now. We never know when he will attack. Yours in Haste, Albus Dumbledore.
The letter written, Albus Dumbledore laid down his quill and called for one of the school owls to send the letter. Then he sat and waited for Severus to return to his office with Draco Malfoy.
* After the match a sodden and dripping Draco Malfoy made his way up to the heavy oak doors, leading in to the castle, which loomed menacingly, high above him. Malfoy felt dwarfed in both stature and bravery at that moment. Through the main entrance hall, he stepped, and down the cold, stone steps towards the Slytherin common Room. As he rounded another corner in the forever winding passage way, he could dimly hear talking. Talking a few tentative steps nearer to the location of the noise he stopped, to listen. Now he could distinctly hear the high pitched voice of Pansy Parkinson conversing with one of her fellow gossiping girl friends. He caught snatches of the conversation, which bounced off of the walls.
"That's a stupid thing to say! My Drakey wouldn't ever try to save Potter. That's the absurd." That was Pansy. Draco's trademark sneer appeared on his face at the thought that not every one would believe that he had actually tried to save the Golden Boy Potter. ".it looked that way to me." That was the other girl. Her words wiped the smirk from his face, and caused a sinking feeling in his stomach. She whispered the next few words so that Draco had to stain to here them.
"Maybe your Drakey has gone soft now his fathers in Azkaban."
The words hit Draco like cold water. He wasn't sure whether to be angry at the girl because she had been rude to his name, and everything that a Malfoy stands for, or because of the possibility that they we true. The young Malfoy decided that he didn't want to listen to any more of the conversation. He turned and walked back the way he had come, turning down a branching corridor that was only lit by the flickering of torches. He decided that he couldn't face the other Slytherins yet, not if the conversation he had just over herd was a good indication of what the other Slytherins are thinking. He was having enough trouble understanding what happened himself, without others muddling his thoughts, or plaguing him with their unwanted opinions.
He turned left again, this time down a corridor where there was no light, and where the air seemed to grow colder the further down the passage way he went. He didn't know where he was going, and so was letting his instincts guide him.
No longer able to see anything but darkness, he withdrew his wand, from where he kept it in side his school robes and whispered "Lumos." The sudden light was blinding, but once his eyes had readjusted, Draco noticed how the light bounced, eerily, off the rough stone walls. He remained unperturbed; after all, he did live in the Slytherin labyrinthine, cold, dungeons.
After a few more minutes of slow and steady pacing, Draco stepped in to a side room, which appeared to be one of the old stone dungeons right at the heart of the Slytherin quarter of the school. Draco, even though he was one of the few Slytherins greatly enjoyed and could see the obvious profits from exploring all of Hogwarts, had never seen this room before. Slowly he walked over to the far corner of the large, empty room, as though in a trance. He leaned against the wall and slid down it, coming to rest on the smooth floor. He whispered "nox" and the wand light went out. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the darkness. Resting his head against the wall, his pulled his knees to his chest, and wrapped his arms around him self, trying to shield him self from the biting cold. His mind was whirling, and making him relive the morning's events in his minds eye..
'"GRYFFINDORE SCORE. THIRTY-TEN, TO GRYFFINDORE AND SLYTHERIN IN POSESSIO," came Lee Jordan's magically magnified voice. Harry and Draco both recalled how disquieting it felt not to hear Lee Jordan's voice doing the commentary. Harry swerved on his broom to avoid a collision with one of the Bludgers, and glanced around to see if he could see a glint of gold anywhere on the pitch. Harry couldn't believe that he was up in the air once again. It had been too long. Since his Godfather, Sirius Black had died; Quidditch was the one thing that he still truly enjoyed doing. He suspected that it was Sirius' death that had made Dumbledore work harder at getting Harry's ban, for life from Quidditch terminated. And thank God it had.
Then Harry saw it. The Golden snitch was hovering just above the Slytherin goals. Harry flattened him self on his broom and drove strait for the snitch. All his concentration was fixed on the tiny speck of gold.
'Harry's seen it it's the Golden snitch'. The crowds in the stands held their breath.
It was likely that it was because of Harry's unwavering concentration on the Snitch that he didn't notice one of the dark, menacing Bludgers was hurtling strait towards him. Draco seeing the collision that was bound to happen, unless Harry swerved, drove strait towards Harry, not knowing what he was hopping to accomplish by putting him self in harms way as well. Yet Draco hadn't reacted fast enough and before he had covered half the distance between himself and the Bludger, Harry had been hit. He watched, as in slow motion as Harry slid sideways off his broom and began to fall. Draco dived after him and stretched out his arm to grab Harry as he fell despite the ten feet still between them. In the same lengthened moment Harry stretched his arm towards Malfoy silently asking for help.
Draco dimly heard Lee call out 'HARRY'S FALLEN. SOME ONE HAS GOT TO HELP HIM! THAT WAS A CLEAR FOUL...' The ground was getting closer and closer. His finger tips brushed the top of Harry's and their eyes connected. But it was too late. Harry hit the ground with full force and was immediately knocked unconscious. Draco landed, ungracefully, a few seconds later, and turned to see Harry being levitated, by the headmaster, back up to the castle. Draco turned and slowly followed the rest of the crowds who were trudging their way, over the muddy grounds, back to their common rooms .All were immersed in conversation. Most discussing what had happened, in large groups. Draco however felt like being left alone.'
He had reacted on instinct, he told himself, even though he knew it wasn't true. His mind refused to accept it, but his heart new that he had tried to save Harry because he didn't want him to die.
"The question is" he thought to himself, "why? Why would I have not wanted Potter to die?"
All the way through his musings and thoughts, he had been concentrating so hard that he had not heard the swish of fabric, and had not felt the temperature drop a few more degrees.
Ever since his father, Lucius Malfoy, had been arrested by the Ministry of Magic, Draco had felt very detached from his fellow, sneaky and forever plotting, Slytherins. He had spent most of the summer holidays, fruitlessly trying to hate Harry for getting his father arrested. In the end, though he hated to admit it, he was not sorry that his father had been arrested. He had never truly loved his father, who had never taught him the concept of love. Instead he had just envied the power that his father had held over the other Death Eaters and the ministry. His father had hoped that Draco would be come a Death Eater, as soon as he left Hogwarts. Draco however, had other ideas, especially after hearing how many Death Eaters had died in the first War. Now there was a career move that he never wanted to make!
Draco laughed at the idea. It was a hollow laugh that reverberated off of the walls. He stopped laughing immediately; he could feel the happiness being sucked out of him. His eyes snapped open, but what they saw made him shut them a gain and recoil further back in to the corner. The sound of sucking breath caught in his ears. He could feel himself beginning to black out. Dimly he herd footsteps out in the corridor just as his mind plunged in to unconsciousness.
Chapter One
The Devastating Fall
"What in Merlin's name happened Albus?"
It was a cold and gloomy, late Saturday afternoon, in November and Albus Dumbledore, professors Snape and McGonagall, along with Madam Pomfrey were gathered together in the hospital wing of Hogwarts School of witch craft and wizardry. The hospital wing was cold and starch white that would have reminded any muggle born witch, or wizard, of a laboratory. Each bed had neatly pressed linen sheets, and the grey light was dimmed by the small, high, windows. The Professors were huddled on one of the beds, except for professor Snape, who had a detached expression on his face, and madam Pomfrey who was fiddling, nervously, with the glass potions bottles, which were balanced on the top of a bed side table. The cause of their current discussion was lying on the bed in front of them. Harry potter, the boy who lived, was lying, all bandaged up and still unconscious, in the hospital wing, completely oblivious to all his visitors.
"I do not know the full details yet poppy," the man called Albus said, to Madam Pomfrey as he turned to face him, her eyes silently enquiring for more information, "and no one will know, I think, until they talk to Draco Malfoy as he is the only one who might be able to tell us all what actually happened."
Dumbledore's age had become more pronounced over the past few weeks, which Harry had determined was because of stress. The headmaster was always very busy, and now he had returned to Hogwarts he spent most of the time in his office, only appearing for dinner each night, in the Great Hall.
"Severus would you kindly go and find Draco for us, please? When you do find him, would you bring him up to my office?" Severus Snape turned and strode out of the hospital wing, his black robes billowing behind him. All that were left solemnly looked down upon the injured boy as the heavy, oak doors swung closed.
"He should wake in a few days time, but he must not leave for quite a while longer than that I think. After all he did sustain quite a serious injury." stated Madam Pomfrey, the undercurrents of concern and anger, obvious in her voice.
"Very well, but I do want to speak to him as soon as he is fully awake Poppy." Albus Dumbledore replied as he too, turned and quietly walked out of the hospital wing.
*
It had been two hours since the Quidditch match but Ron was still continuing to storm around the Gryffindor common room, snapping at everyone, but Hermione. He was creating such a tense and strained atmosphere, that many people had forced them selves to leave the comforting warmth of the common room, instead opting for the colder rooms of Hogwarts, seeking sanctuary. The common room was normally a warm and comforting place, which all the residents of Gryffindor Tower greatly appreciated in the winter months. Hermione had given up her, rather futile, efforts to calm Ron, long ago and so sat now, with a large a dusty volume in hand, in one of the squashy armchairs by the fire, which was by now reduced to a few dieing embers. She turned the page, but wasn't really concentrating on the text at all; she was too worried about Harry. Madam Pomfrey hadn't let the two of them, nor the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, enter the hospital wing, despite their arguments and protests, and when Ron had started shouting at her, Madam Pomfrey had sent them all back to their common room.
"I am going to kill that evil, slimy, little.git!" stated Ron, the suppressed anger making his voice shake. "I can't believe he did that. Did you see him Hermione? Malfoy tried to push Harry off his broom when Harry was trying to avoid a collision with that Bludger!
Which he probably made attack Harry!" Ron sneered when he said Malfoy's name, voice full of venom, but the rest of the sentence was painfully strained, "I.Am .going.to.rip.out.his.insides.and.stuff.them.down.his."
"RON! Calm down." Said Hermione once again trying to make him stop his relentless pacing of the floor, "That's not what it looked like to me any way. I saw Malfoy try and catch Harry when he was falling. Didn't you see him dive after Harry-?" " 'Mione does that really sound like something Malfoy would do? He hates Harry! I am telling you that some how Malfoy was responsible for Harry being injured." Ron Paused for breath and then bust out with "Why wont they let us go and see him?!" Hermione however didn't answer, being, once again, deep in thought.
* Once the Headmaster Reached his office, he proceeded to makes his way, slowly, towards his desk. The Headmaster's office was a quite and peaceful room which Dumbledore found a very comforting relief from most places in the wizarding world, which were normally full of hurrying people. The headmaster paused to stroke the soft downy feathers on his phoenix, Fawkes. The fluffy little bird, tilted its head back in satisfaction and began to cheep, or rather it tried to sing, rather unsuccessfully. Albus left Fawkes and moved around the dim room. Upon reaching his desk, he seated him self in his hair, and took out parchment and quill. He dipped the quill in the black ink, deep in thought. The scratching of the quill was all that could be heard for the next ten minutes, as Dumbledore wrote a letter to Molly Weasley, telling him not to worry, as he knew that Hermione and Ron would be sure to write to her, to inform her about Harry's accident.
Dear Molly, I am writing to inform you that Harry will be ok, and should wake within the next few days. I know that Hermione and Ron will have written to you by now, but I must stress the importance that you stay at your current location. Do not come out to Hogwarts. I know that so far this year Voldemort hasn't been up to much but we can't let our guard down now. We never know when he will attack. Yours in Haste, Albus Dumbledore.
The letter written, Albus Dumbledore laid down his quill and called for one of the school owls to send the letter. Then he sat and waited for Severus to return to his office with Draco Malfoy.
* After the match a sodden and dripping Draco Malfoy made his way up to the heavy oak doors, leading in to the castle, which loomed menacingly, high above him. Malfoy felt dwarfed in both stature and bravery at that moment. Through the main entrance hall, he stepped, and down the cold, stone steps towards the Slytherin common Room. As he rounded another corner in the forever winding passage way, he could dimly hear talking. Talking a few tentative steps nearer to the location of the noise he stopped, to listen. Now he could distinctly hear the high pitched voice of Pansy Parkinson conversing with one of her fellow gossiping girl friends. He caught snatches of the conversation, which bounced off of the walls.
"That's a stupid thing to say! My Drakey wouldn't ever try to save Potter. That's the absurd." That was Pansy. Draco's trademark sneer appeared on his face at the thought that not every one would believe that he had actually tried to save the Golden Boy Potter. ".it looked that way to me." That was the other girl. Her words wiped the smirk from his face, and caused a sinking feeling in his stomach. She whispered the next few words so that Draco had to stain to here them.
"Maybe your Drakey has gone soft now his fathers in Azkaban."
The words hit Draco like cold water. He wasn't sure whether to be angry at the girl because she had been rude to his name, and everything that a Malfoy stands for, or because of the possibility that they we true. The young Malfoy decided that he didn't want to listen to any more of the conversation. He turned and walked back the way he had come, turning down a branching corridor that was only lit by the flickering of torches. He decided that he couldn't face the other Slytherins yet, not if the conversation he had just over herd was a good indication of what the other Slytherins are thinking. He was having enough trouble understanding what happened himself, without others muddling his thoughts, or plaguing him with their unwanted opinions.
He turned left again, this time down a corridor where there was no light, and where the air seemed to grow colder the further down the passage way he went. He didn't know where he was going, and so was letting his instincts guide him.
No longer able to see anything but darkness, he withdrew his wand, from where he kept it in side his school robes and whispered "Lumos." The sudden light was blinding, but once his eyes had readjusted, Draco noticed how the light bounced, eerily, off the rough stone walls. He remained unperturbed; after all, he did live in the Slytherin labyrinthine, cold, dungeons.
After a few more minutes of slow and steady pacing, Draco stepped in to a side room, which appeared to be one of the old stone dungeons right at the heart of the Slytherin quarter of the school. Draco, even though he was one of the few Slytherins greatly enjoyed and could see the obvious profits from exploring all of Hogwarts, had never seen this room before. Slowly he walked over to the far corner of the large, empty room, as though in a trance. He leaned against the wall and slid down it, coming to rest on the smooth floor. He whispered "nox" and the wand light went out. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the darkness. Resting his head against the wall, his pulled his knees to his chest, and wrapped his arms around him self, trying to shield him self from the biting cold. His mind was whirling, and making him relive the morning's events in his minds eye..
'"GRYFFINDORE SCORE. THIRTY-TEN, TO GRYFFINDORE AND SLYTHERIN IN POSESSIO," came Lee Jordan's magically magnified voice. Harry and Draco both recalled how disquieting it felt not to hear Lee Jordan's voice doing the commentary. Harry swerved on his broom to avoid a collision with one of the Bludgers, and glanced around to see if he could see a glint of gold anywhere on the pitch. Harry couldn't believe that he was up in the air once again. It had been too long. Since his Godfather, Sirius Black had died; Quidditch was the one thing that he still truly enjoyed doing. He suspected that it was Sirius' death that had made Dumbledore work harder at getting Harry's ban, for life from Quidditch terminated. And thank God it had.
Then Harry saw it. The Golden snitch was hovering just above the Slytherin goals. Harry flattened him self on his broom and drove strait for the snitch. All his concentration was fixed on the tiny speck of gold.
'Harry's seen it it's the Golden snitch'. The crowds in the stands held their breath.
It was likely that it was because of Harry's unwavering concentration on the Snitch that he didn't notice one of the dark, menacing Bludgers was hurtling strait towards him. Draco seeing the collision that was bound to happen, unless Harry swerved, drove strait towards Harry, not knowing what he was hopping to accomplish by putting him self in harms way as well. Yet Draco hadn't reacted fast enough and before he had covered half the distance between himself and the Bludger, Harry had been hit. He watched, as in slow motion as Harry slid sideways off his broom and began to fall. Draco dived after him and stretched out his arm to grab Harry as he fell despite the ten feet still between them. In the same lengthened moment Harry stretched his arm towards Malfoy silently asking for help.
Draco dimly heard Lee call out 'HARRY'S FALLEN. SOME ONE HAS GOT TO HELP HIM! THAT WAS A CLEAR FOUL...' The ground was getting closer and closer. His finger tips brushed the top of Harry's and their eyes connected. But it was too late. Harry hit the ground with full force and was immediately knocked unconscious. Draco landed, ungracefully, a few seconds later, and turned to see Harry being levitated, by the headmaster, back up to the castle. Draco turned and slowly followed the rest of the crowds who were trudging their way, over the muddy grounds, back to their common rooms .All were immersed in conversation. Most discussing what had happened, in large groups. Draco however felt like being left alone.'
He had reacted on instinct, he told himself, even though he knew it wasn't true. His mind refused to accept it, but his heart new that he had tried to save Harry because he didn't want him to die.
"The question is" he thought to himself, "why? Why would I have not wanted Potter to die?"
All the way through his musings and thoughts, he had been concentrating so hard that he had not heard the swish of fabric, and had not felt the temperature drop a few more degrees.
Ever since his father, Lucius Malfoy, had been arrested by the Ministry of Magic, Draco had felt very detached from his fellow, sneaky and forever plotting, Slytherins. He had spent most of the summer holidays, fruitlessly trying to hate Harry for getting his father arrested. In the end, though he hated to admit it, he was not sorry that his father had been arrested. He had never truly loved his father, who had never taught him the concept of love. Instead he had just envied the power that his father had held over the other Death Eaters and the ministry. His father had hoped that Draco would be come a Death Eater, as soon as he left Hogwarts. Draco however, had other ideas, especially after hearing how many Death Eaters had died in the first War. Now there was a career move that he never wanted to make!
Draco laughed at the idea. It was a hollow laugh that reverberated off of the walls. He stopped laughing immediately; he could feel the happiness being sucked out of him. His eyes snapped open, but what they saw made him shut them a gain and recoil further back in to the corner. The sound of sucking breath caught in his ears. He could feel himself beginning to black out. Dimly he herd footsteps out in the corridor just as his mind plunged in to unconsciousness.